


Good Taste

by Ira_Dunfort



Series: The Grey Fledgling [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Frustration, A Second South Downs Cottage, Attempt at Humor, Dad Jokes, Demostic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Kid Fic, M/M, Paperwork, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy, She/Her Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Smut, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ira_Dunfort/pseuds/Ira_Dunfort
Summary: The one in which it all starts with a bang. Feelings are involved.Lots.





	Good Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have a flashback. And domestic domesticity. This felt rather special to write and I can't even begin to explain why. Maybe you can see for yourself if you squint at the little things between the lines. 
> 
> For clarification: This chapter will alternate between the present and a flashback of their past. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Crowley being an actual househusband mostly busying himself with gardening, cooking and entertaining the neighbourhood's children and old ladies alike had its upsides even for the archangel Gabriel. Once Aziraphale was dropped off by his shop for an undefined amount of hours and biscuits, the demon parked his Bentley in front of their former superiors' quaint house. Before he even got out of his car, Gabriel was already out of his front door.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart." He called into the cottage. 

A slipper came flying straight for his head. He caught it and threw it back, laughing. A moment later, he was in the passenger seat, shopping list neatly folded and tucked into his breast pocket. 

"So," Crowley began, flooring the gas, "why is honey ok but not sweetheart?"

"Honey is, more or less, bee vomit." Gabriel said, pointlessly trying to change the music from Queen to _anything else_. 

The demon snorted. "Right, right, of course."

  


  


Three years and four months after the world didn't end and countless meetings of Heaven and Hell later the archangel Gabriel and the demon prince Beelzebub were deciphering each other's perfected truce contracts' fine print. The other archangels, dukes and princes of Hell had left it to them to figure out the last details.

Just this one final reading to settle it all, putting down their respective signatures, then they can go and part ways.

The place they had met in was free from distractions. A small lonesome hut up in the French Alps. No TV, no radio, no cellphone reception or internet connection, even books and board games had been cleared out before they had arrived. The room, in contrast to the snowy landscape outside, was objectionably warm, the fireplace crackling with what Gabriel inferred to be hellfire. Why else would he feel this agitated? He unbuttoned his silver-grey suit jacket. 

"Stop it." The Lord of Flies buzzed from across the table. 

"Stop what?" Gabriel looked up.

"Tempting me." Beelzebub glowered at him.

The angel's brows drew together in confusion. "I'm an _angel_, I can't tempt you."

"You can, and you're doing it right now."

"I'm not doing anything." He smiled in what he considered his best diplomatic pacifying manner.

"That. That right there." She pointed at his face. "That asshole smile of yours. Cut it out."

His smile only turned amusedly radiant when he saw the prince's cheeks blush with presumed anger. 

"Fuck off, Gabriel, this is the final meeting on truce."

"And so far we're not fighting, I call this a win." Gabriel leaned back in his chair and pulled off his lilac tie, brocade feather pattern shimmering in the firelight. 

"Stop tempting me." The prince growled. 

He knew he was on thin ice already, but he had to poke, for the thrill of it. "Maybe you just like me." 

"I'm a Prince of Hell--"

"And I'm the archangel fucking Gabriel. I _know_ who you are, why else would I be here." He pushed a hand through his backswept hair absentmindedly, messing it up. 

"Stop it!"

"Beelzebub, I can't stop something I am not doing. By the way, with all due respect, it's getting hot in here, tone it down with the fire." He opened the top two buttons of his shirt, the dip between his collarbones shining in a light sheen of sweat. 

The pencil in Beelzebub's hand snapped clean in half.

  


  


"You're taking this seriously." Beelzebub said, observing the archangel pulling all kinds of meats, fruits and packages from his tote bags.

"I am." He smiled at her, clearing out a so far purposeless and cluttered drawer to fill it with Jaffa cakes, wasabi coated peanuts, sour gummy bears and pretzels.

"Must be an angel thing." Beelzebub mused.

"I don't think so." He put the garlic and onions into a newfound porcelain container, hand-painted with lavender flowers and purple polka dots. "Last time I was involved with a pregnancy, I just left the young woman to her own devices. I was merely the messenger. You may have heard of her son, he turned out to be quite famous."

She rolled her eyes at him.

He kept on rearranging the kitchen. Pots and pans up on the higher shelves, snacks and food in the lower shelves so that his _pregnant demon girlfriend_ could have food whenever she wanted.

"What if I want to cook for myself?" She crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

"Please don't." He huffed, having a rather stressful flashback to her calzone endeavours. "You always make such a mess."

She smirked. "And you clean it all up."

He flipped her off, she was almost impressed. "Next time I'll wipe the countertop down with holy water."

"Fine, I'll do a hellfire barbeque in the living room fireplace, then. Smores dribbling on the carpet, and all." You really shouldn't try to threaten a demon lord. 

"You're such a jerk, Bella." 

She snagged dark chocolate out of his hand. "You wouldn't have it any other way."

  


  


"This is unprofessional." Beelzebub growled.

"You think?" Gabriel flashed her another smile and watched her bristle.

"Shut up." 

"You want to know what _I_ think?" The archangel lilted.

"I said, shut up." The prince grit her teeth. He was testing her, that had to be it. 

"I think you genuinely like me." He said, eyes daring.

"No one likes you, Gabriel." She smacked him against his firm chest. 

"What about this, then?" Gabriel traced two fingers along her wet lips spread apart by his cock buried inside her.

"Fuck. This is different." She ground herself down onto him. How did this happen? One moment she was ready to strangle him, the next she couldn't keep her hands from roaming over his body, enticed by how his breath had hitched. Now, here they were, on the queen size bed shoved into a corner of the hut, after a quick exchange of 'Not on the fucking contract!' and 'Then take me to bed, asshole.'

"You don't like me one bit?" Gabriel guided her with his hands on her rear, to lift Beelzebub up and buck into her. Good Lord, what a sight she was above him.

"Will you ever shut up." She rolled her hips in quick snaps, falling far too easily into synch with the smug celestial. 

"Make me." He pushed off the mattress to nip at her shoulder. 

The demon groaned. "Do you want me to gag you with your ugly tie?"

"My tie looks amazing, and you know it. No, don't gag me." He pulled her flush against his chest. "Kiss me." 

"No." She jeered and leaned back, holding onto his shoulders for leverage. Oh, that angle was just right.

"Why not?" His hands moved up to her ribs, helping to balance her. 

"I'm a demon." She managed between moans.

"You're afraid you'd like it."

"I'm not - _oh fuck_ \- not afraid of anything." She was so close, she could feel it. 

"Yes, you are. You're afraid that you could taste actual affection."

"Nonsense." She felt her toes curl. "You're tempting me again." She panted, falling back into the soft pillows, letting Gabriel shift them to keep going, not even slowing down when he felt her shiver and twitch with another orgasm, dragging her right through it, eager to reach his own.

"I am _not_ tempting you." His grip tightened on her hips as he let a guttural moan drip from his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his climax ripped through him. Beelzebub's legs fell open the moment she felt it, her hands reaching for his butt cheeks, fingernails digging into the taut muscle, to push him even deeper inside her, to hold him there. He keened, lowering himself onto her. 

"What if it feels good?" She gasped into his ear, voice bizarrely tentative. 

"Then, you know." Gabriel carded his fingers through her black hair, rocking into her gently with shallow thrusts. 

"Know what?" She nuzzled against his jaw, enjoying the prickling of his stubble more than she expected. 

"We'll see." With that, he picked up speed again. 

  


  


"What's this?" Beelzebub sniffed curiously at the bowl heavily smelling of paprika.

"Soljanka." Gabriel gestured at the bright red food, taking off his apron. When did he even get an apron?

"Meaning?" She pulled the presented meal closer and took the spoon from his hand. 

"Boiled trash." The angel said using air-quotes, enjoying her chuckle. "It was originally supposed to be all sorts of leftovers mixed in a broth to make thick spicy soup from it. Crowley said I can't screw the recipe up if it's designed to be good with garbage in it, so I gave it a try." 

The stew was _delicious_. 

  


  


They had been kissing. Feverishly. It was absolutely intoxicating. Beelzebub couldn't stop. Wouldn't. It didn't seem like the angel wanted to, either.

It was as if she could chase an unspoken truth in his mouth. Feelings he didn't understand himself, had no words for, but they were _there_, she could taste them, right there on his tongue. 

Beelzebub peeked at the digital clock on the nightstand. Three hours? But it felt so much longer. She felt raw and used and, _bless it_, content.

Oh, no. The demon's bright blue eyes widened as she read the smaller digits of the displayed date. It had been more than a day. Twentyseven hours. 

Gabriel felt her tense up and smoothed his hands down her sides. "I've got you."

She mewled, going pliant under his caresses. She could indulge just this once, right? Release all that millennia-old tension between them and then go back to work. He had always riled her up, but, Satan, who would have thought it could lead to this, to the archangel sucking bruises into the column of her willfully submitted neck as he relentlessly rocked into her, unable to stop, oh why can't they stop?

She needed the taste of an answer, grabbed a fistful of his hair and kissed him again, drinking his hoarse moan, feasting on how he shivered as she clenched around his cock in anticipation, pulling him deeper still with her legs around his waist as he came. 

  


  


"Gabriel?" The demon called out. He wasn't at his desk, not in the kitchen, not his small gym. 

"In the garden." 

She followed his voice outside and found him surrounded by a watering can, two spades for whatever reason, and a lot of dirt. 

"What are you doing?" She asked, confused by seeing him immersed in shrubbery. 

"Beating around the bush." 

"Ah, dad jokes." She rewarded him with a mocking slow clap. "You're well prepared for fatherhood." 

"Thank you." He made finger guns at her, unironically. 

"What are you doing, really?" She couldn't help but smile at him. 

"Planting currant bushes." He dropped a plant into a hole he had dug at least partially by hand, judging by the stains on his rolled-up sleeves. "Red and black berries, for you."

"When did you even get these?" She asked and came closer. 

"After grocery shopping, which is a dreadful ordeal by the way." He patted the soil down. "Crowley took me to the garden centre."

"How long do you think they'll survive us?" Beelzebub turned the care instruction card in her hand. 

"Have a little faith in me." Gabriel said with a mix of irritation and conviction. 

"Ha!" She laughed, picking up the can to water the plants. "Demon."

  


  


"I don't want to let go of you." Gabriel spoke in a hushed tone. 

"Greed, how unbecoming of an angel."

"Maybe it is, maybe it's something else." He pulled her closer, his still hard cock resting inside her as they spooned, one hand splayed right above her heart, the other between her legs, a deft finger circling her clit, making her hum. One day and sixteen hours after they had dragged each other to bed, the mad heat has calmed down. This was the afterglow, a fire slowly, slowly settling into a comfortable smoulder.

"To be honest, and don't you dare tell anyone I'm being honest, I don't want to let go either." Beelzebub closed her eyes, concentrating on how pleasantly full she felt, the sticky connection of their entangled limbs, his strong arms around her.

"Stay with me." He whispered the words into her skin as he kissed her neck.

"Gabriel." It was meant to be spoken as a warning and came out as a plea.

"I know you want to. I can _feel_ you want to, demon or not. Please, _please_, Beelzebub. Stay with me. I know we have to sign that contract, but I don't want to stop seeing you." He rested his cheek against her matted hair.

"My vices would drive you insane." She said with a sigh. 

Gabriel shook his head. "I might suffocate you with devotion."

"I'd bring nothing but chaos to your life." She reached up, putting her hand above his on her chest. 

He entwined their fingers. "And I'll anchor you when you need it."

"You don't know what you're asking." Beelzebub swore she could feel Gabriel's heartbeat against her back. 

He pulled her even closer. "I don't, I really don't, but I want it."

It would be constant wrestling to compromise, a never-ending conflict, but it would also be this. The warmth Beelzebub felt blossoming in her demonic breast, the soft shine to Gabriel's lilac eyes, the kisses, oh the _kisses_.

"Next thing I know you'll call me sweetheart."

**Author's Note:**

> Now this, my fellow friends of the disastrous bureaucrats, was my honest attempt at porn with feelings, performed by assholes falling in love. I hope it was to your liking.
> 
> The next one will go back to focusing on the pregnancy madness.
> 
> See ya 🤍!
> 
> PS: I thought about putting flashbacks in all italics, but, you know, that just doesn't look right. If you have a suggestion, do tell!


End file.
